{seven}

At this exact moment 7 years ago, you were 38 minutes old.  With a huge head full of black hair and weighing in at a whopping 8 pounds and 8 ounces at 20 inches long, you became ours, Casey McGill.  Your wide eyes and a strong heart made our family whole.  There's so much I can say about the young man you are becoming.  Looking back at last year and when you turned four and then again when you turned two, my heart does its best to hold onto the precious tiny one that's quickly growing into the boy I see today.  I could write pages and pages on the effortless leadership you possess.  Your natural passion for people and connections is so very much a part of who you are. You are a fierce one full of story.  Flamboyant and strong willed, you expect life to be ready for the joy you most certainly intend to spread.

God has gifted you, Casey Face.  He has poured out a happy kind of love in you.  It's a love that's contagious and full of courage.  It swells with assuredness too.  You see the good.  You love the chase of excellence and the excitement of achievement.  Your heart beats competitive.

You are able.  So very able.  Your spirit is filled with a confidence found somewhere nudged between the confounds of your soul and the pace you natural frequent.  You are a quick study.  Insistent on excellence, you run this thing called life in an effortless fashion.

And today you are seven.  We celebrated a day early with cupcakes completely and totally made by you.  Last night I watched you with such precision and ease as you gathered the ingredients, the equipment and performed the process.  You talked the entire time.  Asking questions about things that caught your curiosity and re-telling stories of things you enjoyed.  You laughed at your brother as he came in from time to time to tease you or steal a finger lick of batter.

"Mom, icing these cupcakes takes very delicate strokes."  These were your words.  I love that you are a growing boy in the details.  That you pay attention to the processes, better yet, that you're able to communicate tiny nuances that make an experience more grounded to yourself and those around you.  Delicate. Yes indeed, Rudy.  You are so very much.  Brought to tears by the words of a song or the sadness of a story, you feel.  And you're not afraid of what that delicate may look like to others.  Your transparency and passion bring a comfortableness to those around you.

Life is drawn to your fullness.  People gravitate toward you.  Memories are more alive simply because you're in them.  That's God, boy.  It's Him stretching out all of His glory in the granules of you.  You're joy steady.  Watching your faith and walk collide reminds me of how fortunate I am to journey through this life as one of your earthly guides.

Happy seven, Casey McGill.  Thank you for your clever style and your ability to love without limits.  Your effort is out of this world.  Your possessiveness for what captures your heart will always be a force to be reckoned with.  I can only imagine the plans God has in store for you. And I can hardly wait to watch as you pound Him out a fist bump only to shout, "Let's do this, Big Guy!"

Love you forever, Rudy.

Mama :)

{week 2:  my 2 in 52}